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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343105">Spring into Summer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrtassia/pseuds/Syrtassia'>Syrtassia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Canon-Typical Violence, Desperation, Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pining, Sexual Inexperience, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:55:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29343105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrtassia/pseuds/Syrtassia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been a full seven years since Alphinaud first met the Warrior of Light. She has always had his eye in one way or another on account of her strength and splendor, but lately he finds this fascination to be spilling over into a most inconvenient fervor. Though he would be well within his rights to court her and claim her, she hasn't seemed to grasp yet that he is no longer a scrawny teenager full of propriety and clamoring for recognition.</p><p>What must a man do to be seen as an adult?</p><p>**In this fic, Alphinaud is 23. I do not support underage.**</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alphinaud Leveilleur/Reader, Alphinaud Leveilleur/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              So it goes: the snow melts away to water the blooms of spring, waves crash upon the shore and reduce them to sand, tadpoles become frogs, saplings become trees, and boys become men. And from this simple fact of life springs the present frustrations of one Alphinaud Leveilleur: his dearest friend and the object of his affections and lust both, the Warrior of Light, perceives him yet as a stripling boy. So focused is she upon her task of saving the realm time and time again, that she has neglected to notice that time has a way of changing things. Places, faces, and not least of all, people.</p><p>              As it ought to be, in his own humble opinion, the warmth of spring could just as easily make lovers out of friends as it could make fruit from flowers. Yet, despite his polite and subtle hints of affection, not only has his dear warrior been oblivious to his intent, but when she finally suspected his intentions might be further than platonic, dismissed them immediately on account of considering him too young, despite being only a few years his senior.  </p><p>              Having grown tired of this game he can’t seem to win, Alphinaud began his plans to court her in earnest. However, despite having known her for a considerable length of time, he couldn’t seem to determine how exactly to go about it…</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>             </p><p>              The battle had lasted nearly three bells, and the coliseum of Halatali itself would need repairs after the scarring and beating it had received from the barrage of spell and steel, but just as everything else in the realm, the young behemoth seems to have been no match for the Warrior of Light. Its legs tremble, then give out underneath it, and with an exhausted groan, it collapses to the ground defeated. Without open sky to be its strength, it could call forth no meteors, and though it had whipped the winds about it and slashed with horn and claw, its struggles were in vain against the slayer of gods and Ascians both.</p><p>              Swaggering forth from the arena with all the confidence and <em>exhaustion</em> of a woman who has just beaten a trained behemoth within an ilm of its life, the warrior leans herself against a wall, and then slumps to the ground herself. Though it was a mere demonstration of her strength to the people of Ul’dah for their amusement and a fat sack of gil to recompense her, it had taxed her to the bone, and her comrades were not there in the hall to congratulate her or assist her after her trial.</p><p>              <em>Fair weather friends, one and all… sometimes I wonder if the Scions see me as a person and not a weapon.</em> Her wordless lament is interrupted by the sound of footsteps further down the hall, and though she does not open her eyes to see who is coming, she finds herself quite grateful to them when she feels the weight of a full canteen in her lap.</p><p>              “Ah… thank you.” Lifting the canteen for a drink, she drains it to half in one draught, appreciative of both the assistance and her anonymous benefactor’s silence, even as they join her, seating themselves next to her against the wall. Her head is pounding, bordering on a migraine from bells of conscious effort.</p><p>              When the voice does identify who has helped her in her time of need, it is blessedly soft, sotto voce, so as not to worsen the headache that he is quite sure she’s struggling with. “Bloody disgraceful that no one else had bothered to come check on you.” Alphinaud brushes a strand of sweat-soaked hair out of her face, tucking it back with the rest. “I had thought that <em>at least</em> Y’shtola would have been here to aid you, and I am endlessly disappointed to see that is not the case.”</p><p>              With a wordless hum, the warrior lifts part of her shirt. Aware that this is not a gesture of impropriety, but her own wordless request for help, he eyes the gash on her side that the behemoth had scored between the folds of steel comprising her armor. It isn’t so deep that it would require a medic’s help, so he does as any healer with half a brain would, and soothes her hurts with aether, mending the ugly wound in a few moments.</p><p>              The warrior heaves a blissful sigh of relief as her pain fades, leaning her tired frame against Alphinaud, reveling in the presence of a dear friend. “I owe you.”</p><p>              “No, you don’t, and you know this.”</p><p>              <em>“Hush.”</em> Her smile gives away the fact that she’s speaking in jest. “Once I get my pay for this miserable task they set me to, I’m taking you out for dinner.”</p><p>              Alphinaud’s heart skips a beat. <em>Did I hear her right…?</em></p><p>              “Don’t read into that,” she quickly clarifies.</p><p>              <em>Damnit.</em> “Why ever not, my lady?”</p><p>              “Mm. Don’t get smart with me, <em>boy.”</em></p><p>              Deciding now is as good a time as any to assert himself, he grumbles, “Oh, don’t test me. You call me that again and I’ll finish what the behemoth started.”</p><p>              This actually gets a laugh out of her, one that the pain in her side makes her regret very quickly. “My, you’re cute when you try to be threatening. You’ve the menacing glare of a wolf pup and barely-there fangs to match.”</p><p>              Once again, Alphinaud feels the bile of indignation rising in his chest. It is clear to him that <em>even still,</em> his dearest friend sees him as a child, or at the very least, not yet an adult, though this has not been the case for five long years. <em>And how might I change her mind…?</em></p><p>              “Well… while I doubt I could best you in battle, godslayer that you are, I wager I could beat you in a drinking contest.” <em>I am signing myself up for disaster in the highest degree. At least it will be fun.</em></p><p>              There is a pause of silence, and rather than answer, the warrior opens her eyes to look up at him. There’s a certain glint in her eye, though whether it’s amusement, derision, or plain disbelief is beyond him. “You know what? You’re on, scrawny. I could down double the shots that knock you on your arse and still be seeing straight.” She pinches his cheek in a gesture of idle affection, much to his immediate irritation. “You’ll forgive me for rescheduling until such time as I have recovered from my blood loss.”</p><p>              “Wouldn’t it only be fair to give you a handicap like that?”</p><p>              “I have no interest in ruining my liver. Only embarrassing you in front of your sister.”</p><p>              “And here I thought you didn’t have a mean bone in your body.”</p><p>              “Liar.”</p><p>              <em>Would that this playful banter could last forever. </em>With a reluctant sigh, Alphinaud says, “Well, enough empty threats. I ought to bring you somewhere you can rest, recuperate… and mentally prepare yourself to lose to a <em>scrawny boy</em> in a game of shots.” Repeating her earlier half-insults simply to see her smile, he loops an arm under hers to help her to her feet and lead her away… relishing what few moments of intimacy he could steal like this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Contest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alphinaud had the brilliant idea to challenge the Warrior of Light to a drinking contest. The Warrior of Light has gained quite a reputation for surpassing every challenge she stumbles across. This will be no different.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              “You know, Alphi, when you said <em>drinking contest,</em> this is most certainly not where I expected to be brought.” The Drowning Wench is not an unfamiliar environ to one as worldly as she, but nevertheless, she is surprised to see the place in such a context. “Besides, aren’t you too young to—”</p><p>              Alphinaud cuts her off with a shout over to the bartender. “Baderon? Two shots of rum, if you please?” Turning back to his friend, he asserts, “Not since two years ago. Your temporal awareness is truly concerning, <em>madam.”</em></p><p>              Doing the math, first in her head, and then on her hands, as if she is demonstratably bad at math, the Warrior of Light furrows her brow. “Since when are you twenty-three?”</p><p>              “Since about six moons ago, but ‘tis plain you haven’t had the time to consider such things, what with being sent all over the realm to fight a wide variety of crazed Primals, ancient <em>and</em> modern warmachina, and other doomsday-level threats that I would vastly prefer you did not stubbornly insist to take on alone.” All but dragging her up to the bar, Alphinaud takes a seat there.</p><p>              Baderon, too, seems almost shocked to see him. “What’s a lordling like you doing in here?”</p><p>              “Does <em>no one</em> realize I’ve gotten older? By the Twelve—”</p><p>              “No, I mean, where’d you find the <em>time?</em> Don’t you run the joint nowadays? The Scions of the Seventh Dawn, I mean. Ever since Minfilia poofed and Ishgard’s dragon problem dried up?”</p><p>              Relieved that someone is recognizing his achievements at all, he sighs, “Well, it’s more of a joint effort. My sister covers for me while I am away, and was all too happy to send me off when she found out where I intended to go and why.”</p><p>              “I’ve been challenged to a drinking contest,” muses the woman beside him, elbowing him in the side. “And he is going to lose. Pity his sister couldn’t come. It would have been a <em>blast</em> to—”</p><p>              “<em>You</em> challenged <em>her</em> to a drinking contest? Son…” Baderon facepalms, but passes them both a shot of rum anyway. “You know she’s sent Roegadyn sailors home in shame, aye?”</p><p>              “So?” Alphinaud downs the shot and immediately realizes he has likely made a mistake.</p><p>              The Au Ra follows suit, licking her lips with a satisfied hum. “Another.” She waves demandingly, and Baderon does not deny her. As per the rules of a contest, he passes one to Alphinaud as well. She turns to her companion with a glint of mischief in her gaze. “By the time we’re through, you’re gonna need someone to carry you back to the Rising Stones.”</p><p>              “You’re strong. Why not you?” Raising the shotglass, he empties it once more, but the burn of hard liquor is, for the most part, unfamiliar to him. He was often too busy with paperwork or managing the Scions’ various affairs to indulge like this.</p><p>              “Two shots in and already an incurable flirt. Someone put a leash on this man,” she jests in turn, draining the shot almost quicker than he can blink. “Another.”</p><p>              It is at this point that Alphinaud truly recognizes that he has fucked up. “Gods, woman—”</p><p>              “Mm-mm. We’re just getting started. Hold onto your hem, ser, you wanted a contest, you’re getting a contest.” With a sharp grin, she waves for yet another shot. It’s going to be an interesting night…</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>              <em>“I… I yield…”</em> Pushing away the shotglass out of some hellish mix of pain and disgust, Alphinaud lets his head drop onto the bar. The few sailors that had gathered around to watch the Warrior of Light put yet another man to shame cheer raucously, much to Alphinaud’s dismay. He would quite prefer sweet silence, what with the pounding headache that threatens his consciousness.</p><p>              Baderon takes both of their shotglasses, high-fives his dear, drunken Auri friend, and pats Alphinaud on the back. “Cheer up, lad. You lost the moment you thought to take her on. She can fight the influence of <em>Primals,</em> so it stands to reason the influence of liquor ain’t shite.”</p><p>              If his head weren’t spinning, Alphinaud would try to refute that with some speech on the difference between chemical and aetheric influences, but he’s barely managing to stay upright on his barstool, so suffice to say that’s not how it goes.</p><p>              “C’mon.” A mercifully soft voice reassures him, and the woman that just soundly kicked his arse helps him to his feet. “There’s a reason they put the Mizzenmast Inn where they did. Let’s get you a bed to crash in, aye?”</p><p>              His voice is a tired, drunken mumble. “Will you be joining me there?” It was said in jest, but much to his chagrin, he sounds entirely too hopeful with his question.</p><p>              “Unless you want me to get a different room?”</p><p>              Alphinaud suddenly finds himself quite grateful he is too impaired to express excitement, but with his inhibitions drowned, he gives it voice anyhow. “Bloody spectacular. Been tryin’ to get you to share sheets with me for… moons…” Slurred though his words are, they do not fall on deaf ears. Or, horns, rather.</p><p>              His dear friend only laughs. “Spoken like a man who’s polished half a bottle of rum. Fitting, seeing as that’s what you’ve gone and done. I’ll grant you this, you hold your liquor a fair sight better than I was thinking you would. You’re going to have a savage hangover, though…”</p><p>              “What about you?” Even as the warrior leads him into one of the Mizzenmast’s many rooms, all but dragging him over to the bed so he can damn well lie down, his concern for her is clearly deeper than his concern for himself.</p><p>              “As I said, I could double what you drank and still see straight. I’m going to go get you some water, m’kay? You’re going to need it. A lot of it.” The woman stands to leave, and Alphinaud reaches out to try to pull her back down with him, but she’s already out of reach by the time he lifts his arm. This seems to be his lot more often than not anyway; for every step he takes towards her, she seems to take a leap away, and for every ilm closer he gets in his chase, she puts a yalm between them again, effortlessly, and without ever noticing that he is trying to get closer at all. All at once, he finds her radiant and reckless, like the summer sun that could as easily crack the ground as bring it life; tempting and tempestuous both, like the shoreline as it slips away, as if leading one on for the chase, only to rise in a great swell—</p><p>              “Up you go,” the Auri woman calls out cheerfully, handing him the selfsame canteen he had handed her a week ago in Halatali, now full of water. Apparently, she had kept it.</p><p>              <em>I was wondering where this went… slipped my mind that I had handed it to you at all.</em> Gratefully, he takes it from her, and as he takes a long draught of it, he contemplates whether or not even the worst of hangovers would make him regret what has otherwise been an utter highlight of a night.</p><p>              After a long pause, Alphinaud speaks again. “I owe you.”</p><p>              “That’s <em>my</em> line.” Her smile makes his heart skip a beat, which does not much help the awful pulsing in his head. “Too bad you’re learning your actions have consequences, ah, again. If I knew this would happen, I’d have stopped you at ten shots.”</p><p>              “And shame me in front of all those sailors? How cruel. I’ll not let it be thought that Alphinaud Leveilleur is a coward or a quitter.” His smile mirrors hers, and now that she is close again, in his boldness, he reaches out to caress her face ever so slightly. “Don’t mind me. You’ve a speck of dust here on your scales…”</p><p>              “Oh, just go to sleep. ‘Tis plain you’re unaccustomed to drinking. Well, this is all part and parcel of what it’ll do to you. Throw a wrench in your reason and put your better judgement to bed and all that. You’ll have them back in the morning with a side of regrets.” For some reason, she just can’t seem to get her head around the affection she’s been getting. Is it a joke? Is this simply what his personality has become over the years? Is she misinterpreting it?</p><p>              Alphinaud closes his eyes, though not to rest—merely to contemplate. <em>I finally muster the boldness to misbehave a little and she thinks it’s just the drink. Bloody typical. My luck is the worst.</em></p><p>              “However…”</p><p>              As his companion has decided to lower her voice some, he scoots just close enough that he’ll be able to hear her properly again.</p><p>              “…I would not dare leave you here alone knowing what demons you’ll be wrestling tomorrow. Rest assured you won’t wake up suffering alone in a cold bed.” She pokes his chest, right where his heart is, and despite being impaired, his hand shoots up to meet hers with lightning speed. <em>“Oh--?”</em></p><p>Slowly, as if to watch for her reaction, Alphinaud presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Then I look forward to your face being the first one I see tomorrow.”</p><p>              “Oh…” She averts her gaze. <em>Success.</em> Her face flushes pink, and it’s not from the alcohol. “Stop it, you.” Quickly dismissing the flutter in her heart as a symptom of being tipsy, she lies down beside him and tries not to look him in the eyes. “Go to sleep. You’re a disaster.”</p><p>              “Correct,” he hums, before finally allowing the dizziness to steal his alertness, and his consciousness with it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Advice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The morning might be rough, but Alphinaud regrets nothing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              “Oh. <em>Oh.</em> Please, kill me.” Surely enough, the morning after his drinking contest with the Warrior of Light is treating Alphinaud poorly. He sits up, shielding his eyes from the light coming in through the windows, seriously contemplating just lying back down and putting his head under the pillow, until he hears a soft chuckle beside him and he jumps like a frightened cat.</p><p>              The Auri warrior’s tired voice is like music to his ears. “Ahh, hurts, doesn’t it? Good morning, Alphinaud.” She stretches out, humming contentedly, before simply curling up again with no apparent intent to get up just yet. A lazy morning suits her just fine.</p><p>              <em>Good morning, indeed…</em> Simply seeing her there in the morning, in the same bed as he, with the sound of her yawning the first thing he hears upon waking, is something he has been craving on an unbelievably deep level for far too long.</p><p>              This rosy morning was bound to be fleeting, of course. Just as it seems his dear warrior would be content to spend another hour or two snoozing beside him in sweet silence, she gets out of bed with the speed of someone who has forgotten something dire, only without similarly important motive. She simply seems to do all that she does as if she is in a rush. Though Alphinaud’s heart aches to catch her by the tail and drag her back down with him, he stays his hand, as not only would it be improper of him, but moving at any speed greater than a snail’s pace in his current condition feels like a positively biblical-scale effort.</p><p>              When she returns with the canteen, once again full, he realizes just why she has gotten up with such speed.</p><p>              “For me?”</p><p>              “Mm-hm. The more you drink, the faster that nasty headache will be gone. You ought to take a hot shower, too—it’ll loosen up your muscles some. Sooner you do that, sooner you’ll rid yourself of that awful tension. I’ve been where you are. I don’t want to see ya suffer the same.”</p><p>              “Be still my heart,” Alphinaud half-heartedly jokes, resting against the headboard of the bed and taking sips off of the canteen. He feels a weight beside him, <em>ah, she’s back,</em> and leans into her, partly because he’s fixating on her warmth, partly to see where his boundaries lie. She has always been fairly touchy with her friends—even the ones further from her than he is—so he is not surprised when she leans right back. Then, a question comes to his mind, one that burns him so fiercely that he can’t help but ask it. “Are you this comfortable with <em>all </em>your friends, or might I count myself privileged?”</p><p>              “Privileged,” she echoes. “I look after you because you do the same for me. Who was it that first came to my aid after I destroyed Nidhogg and promptly fainted?”</p><p>              “Me?” His memory is foggy, but he recalls it well enough, despite the grand scale of that battle and trauma's tendency to cloud the memory.</p><p>              She nods in response. “And when Doma Castle fell, scattering its various debris, pray, who was there to pull the shards of glass from between the scales on my back?”</p><p>              “Also me.” <em>That</em> day is one he remembers far more vividly. Seeing her shed as much blood as she did put him in a state of near hysterical panic, and he distinctly recalls his sister judging him for the ugly fit he threw when he realized no one had gone in to help her take down Grynewaht.</p><p>              “More recently, when positively <em>no one else</em> thought to be there for me when I told everyone I would be dueling a <em>behemoth,</em> who was it that brought me this very canteen and healed my hurts?” Before he answers at all, she pulls his braided hair, much to his displeasure, and answers for him. “You, of course. Alphinaud, I may have shared a bed at some point with most of the Scions and a few other friends—merely to steal their warmth for a while, to clarify, but believe me when I say it was only reluctantly so. I trust you more than <em>anyone.</em> You actually <em>care,</em> instead of merely pretending to so that I might benefit you further in the future.”</p><p>              <em>You trust me so deeply, but please, trust me with more. Your heart and soul, even.</em> More than anything, he wants to say it, but he simply can’t muster the nerve. Alphinaud <em>knows</em> from the way the woman looks at him that she does not see him as aught more than a friend, but even should it remain that way forever, he lies to himself that he would be content knowing he has her faith and trust.</p><p>              “…what shall we do with our day, then, once I’ve banished this hangover?”</p><p>              “<em>Our</em> day, is it? Getting ahead of yourself?” The look of shock on his face makes her laugh, which he finds he doesn’t mind one bit. “I jest. I… truth be told, I’m not sure I’ll have the time to lounge about or mess around. There’s a, uh... situation in Terncliff that needs my attention.”</p><p>              “Please tell me it’s not another warmachina.”</p><p>              “Then I will not say a word.” She wraps her arms around him once in a firm, but painfully short embrace, and mumbles something he doesn’t quite hear. “Take care of yourself, m’kay? I’ll be back. Bet on it. Not so sure when, mind you.”</p><p>              And with that, she’s gone.</p><p>              “Take care of yourself,” Alphinaud echoes to the now-empty room.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>              “Thancred, I need your advice.”</p><p>              Having made his way back to the Rising Stones, Alphinaud has decided that every approach he has made so far has been insufficient, and therefore he needs to rethink his strategy. For all that he does know about the Warrior of Light, there seems to be yet another thing he doesn’t, until it hit him that it isn’t his insufficient knowledge of <em>her</em>, but of <em>courting</em> that impedes him. So who better to ask than someone who has sweet-talked his way into and out of multiple sticky situations?</p><p>              “Lemme guess. She <em>still</em> has no clue you’re burning up for her?”</p><p>              Ouch. “No… yeah,” Alphinaud sighs, taking a seat at the table across from Thancred.</p><p>              “When are you going to be more forward with her and stop beating around the fucking bush? If you wait too long, you know she’s going to find a lover.”</p><p>              The very thought of someone else being sweet with the star of his heart makes Alphinaud flinch in near agony. “At least she’ll be happy?”</p><p>              From across the room, Urianger looks up from the book he is reading to chime in. “Fool thyself not. Thou knowest thou shalt not be content until such time as she is within thy reach. Thou hast done a poor job of hiding thy many pages of poetry and twice that many artworks of her.”</p><p>              Thancred smirks in a way that makes Alphinaud uneasy. “Maybe she’ll catch on if we take a few of those pages and show—”</p><p>              <em>“Do it and I’ll put a noulith through your chest.”</em></p><p>Urianger nearly drops his book. Thancred seems similarly shocked. Neither of them have heard Alphinaud take a tone like that with <em>anyone,</em> never mind threaten death in such an authoritative voice. They all know well that he had it in him, having taken part in arranging entire rebellions more than once, but they had not expected this in the slightest.</p><p>              “Your threat is duly noted. I will refrain from touching your stash of lovingly drawn depictions and flowery prose.” Looking over at Krile, who presently sits across from Urianger, Thancred mumbles, “Though I suspect not everyone here is willing to heed your warnings. There are those among us that fear neither gods nor men.”</p><p>              Knowing she is being addressed, Krile retorts, “Looks like I’ve got something besides your thesis to show to the Warrior of Light when next your back is turned.”</p><p>              “I <em>will</em> throw you to a morbol.”</p><p>              “I’m sure you will. You are bold to imagine your threat will stop me.”</p><p>              “…please don’t.”</p><p>              “That’s more like it.” Turning the page of the book she hasn’t even looked up from, Krile falls silent once more, as she typically is when reading.</p><p>              Turning back to Thancred, looking <em>considerably</em> more bothered than before, Alphinaud asks again, “So how <em>do</em> I get her attention, then, if you know so much more than I? <em>Surely</em> wouldn’t admit that you <em>don’t know?</em>”</p><p>              Upon being challenged this way, Thancred’s pride all but forbids him from providing a subpar method of gaining a woman’s attention. “Hm… take her somewhere fancy. She’s not much for <em>fancy,</em> I realize, but most of those high-end events have a snack bar and pearl-clutching bluebloods, and those seem to be a couple of things that suit her very much. Dress up in a fancy suit and bring her somewhere where there’s a charcuterie board to clear and nobles to offend and I guarantee you she will be happy.”</p><p>              “The tried-and-true <em>panem et cirenses</em> approach,” Alphinaud says with a nod. “I had considered an expensive date before, but for the same reasons you mentioned, dismissed the idea; she just doesn’t <em>enjoy</em> all that pomp and circumstance. It hadn’t occurred to me that that very fact would likely make the date more enjoyable for her. What better way to express your extreme disdain for high society than souring one of their luxurious events? Spectacular. Thank you, Thancred.”</p><p>              “You have more of a penchant for mischief than I thought you would.”</p><p>              “After my time in Eulmore, I like high society <em>less</em> than she does,” Alphinaud notes before getting up to arrange his plans. “I will excuse myself now to pick out my best outfit to ruin and a locale where we can get away with something just illegal enough that neither of us will go to gaol.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Party Foul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Running into an old friend always does seem to derail your plans, doesn't it?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              <strong><span class="u">About a week and several days after the Warrior of Light got Alphinaud completely hammered…</span></strong></p><p>              <em>Patience… the wait will be worth it…</em></p><p>              The day had been carefully planned, the venue chosen almost specifically by the number of easily-offended nobles that would be present. This, of course, led them to Ishgard, where a rather grand gala was to be hosted by House Dzemael. Entry to the event was either expensive or by invitation, so the commons would have next to no chance to join. Alphinaud and the Warrior of Light, being known and loved by nigh on <em>everyone</em> in the Holy See, were invited quite cordially to the event after expressing interest in coming.</p><p>              It is only upon the setting of the sun over Ishgard’s highest towers, however, that the auspicious event would begin at all. He and his dearest companion had been waiting in the foyer of the mansion for quite some time, passing the idle hours with games of rock-paper-scissors and I-Spy. Moments that the Au Ra would think little of, and that Alphinaud would likely cherish until his last breath.</p><p>              At long last, the call goes out that the various nobles are free to enter, as the refreshments table and decorations have all been set up. A reminder is given that this is an event of propriety and sophisticated behavior will be expected, to which the guests of mischievous intent smirk knowingly.</p><p>              “Shall we, my lady?” Alphinaud offers his arm to his Auri companion, playing the part of the gentleman effortlessly, you know, as he does.</p><p>              “Oh, please,” she replies, her voice soft.</p><p>              <em>And how stunning you are in that dress…</em></p><p>The interior of the mansion’s hall is set up in such fine display that the warrior pauses for a moment, almost intimidated by the number of highly breakable things in her immediate vicinity. Then she spots the cupcakes on the far table, and almost immediately breaks away, making a beeline for the snacks. As expected, all things considered. She always was a big fan of sweets. And wine. And plenty of the finer things that her less-than=proper behavior often banned her from. Now, though, wearing the guise of the wealthy, a fine dress of her favorite color, glittering with inlaid gems and luxurious lace, none would be the wiser that she is not here to mingle with high society, only to foul their fairness and devour their trifles.</p><p>              “Is that <em>Alphinaud?”</em> A familiar voice from off to the side catches his attention. “By the Fury, we’re blessed to have you.” And who would it be but Ser Aymeric, Speaker for the House of Lords?</p><p>              “Oh, so you imagine,” Alphinaud says. “I know you’re no spoil-sport,” he muses, lowering his voice, “So I’ll have you know we are actually here to cause a bit of a ruckus. See, we’re not as prim and proper as we once were—”</p><p>              “Who’s <em>we?”</em></p><p>              Alphinaud calls the Warrior of Light by name, and gestures over to the refreshments, where she is presently stuffing her face with them. “I brought her along, as a sort of da—”</p><p>              As if he had been directly ordered to go and greet the woman of the hour, Aymeric all but rushes to join her, lifting the Auri woman in a tight hug and spinning her around. She squeals with surprise, her gleeful laughter filling the air as she returns this excited embrace.</p><p>              <em>Hm.</em></p><p>That’s about when Alphinaud learns much to his chagrin what his emotions are capable of. Such fire as he has never felt threatens to consume him from within, the flesh-ripping unbelievable <em>envy</em> of looking on as Aymeric, in his boldness, gives his one love more affection in the span of a moment than he had been brave enough to give her in many moons. He can’t help but recall the way she always seemed bright-eyed and bushy tailed when the very mention of Aymeric came up in conversation, how she so readily leans towards him whenever he is present, and indeed, the time he invited her over for dinner and she accepted almost before he got the sentence out at all.</p><p>              He clenches his jaw, remaining as composed as he can manage. It would reflect poorly on his attitude to act out, and the <em>last</em> thing he wants is to appear possessive. To cling too tightly to one who so highly values her freedom would be to kiss his chances of a life with her goodbye. However, as tends to be with spectacles like these, he can’t seem to turn a blind eye, staring on with a look of displeasure that borders on seething rage.</p><p>              He recalls Thancred’s warning to him with no small amount of bitterness. <em>“If you wait too long, you know she’s going to find a lover.”</em> Alphinaud only manages to finally look away when he can’t bear to look anymore, after catching the fleeting moment in which Aymeric kisses the top of her head in a most flagrant public display of affection.</p><p>              Seeking other things to do and an opening to take his mind off of it, an act he recognizes to be completely in vain, he mingles with the crowd as he said he wouldn’t, placing his mind to times long past where no such self-vitriol boiled within his chest. Those early days where he was yet young and full of naivety, believing that aught he wanted is his deserving and that it would come to him in due time.</p><p>              <em>If I wait too long…</em></p><p>              When the burn of envy becomes too much to bear, he approaches them at a rather brisk pace, finding them engrossed in a conversation engaging enough that neither notices his presence at all.</p><p>              <em>“Pardon me,”</em> Alphinaud interrupts, horrified with himself for the tone he accidentally takes, “Should I let you two alone for a while or would you perhaps want to come with me and go cause a problem or two?”</p><p>              “Actually,” the warrior hums, “I think I’m going to behave myself after all. I’ve not seen Aymeric in <em>ages,</em> and had I known he would be present, I would have come with pure intentions. Mostly pure, at any rate,” she says under her breath, giving Aymeric a look that sours Alphinaud’s mood even further than before, a feat he thought would surely not be possible.</p><p>              “I… see,” he manages, excusing himself immediately.</p><p>              His displeasure does not escape the Au Ra’s notice, and she watches with some confusion as he slips away once more to be lost among the nobles. Even Aymeric senses his foul mood, thinking of what might have caused it for only a fleeting moment before turning back to the Warrior of Light.</p><p>              “Anyway, as I was saying…”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>              The gala lasts the entire night, and only concludes with the rising of the sun above Ishgard’s pillars once more. When all is said and done, Alphinaud’s plus-one had spent more time chatting with Aymeric than she had spent monopolizing the punch bowl. Even as the nobles disperse, their event thoroughly uninterrupted by the untoward events she and Alphinaud had been planning together for the past week and a half, the warrior seeks him out, but begins to suspect he is no longer present at all.</p><p>              Her curiosity is enough that she thinks to ask around.</p><p>              “Have you seen Alphinaud? He came with me…”</p><p>              “No ma’am. Well, earlier yes, but I haven’t spotted him since.”</p><p>              Moving on to the next well-dressed blueblood, she asks him the same, and receives a similar answer. This goes on for some time before she comes to the conclusion that he had left the party entirely somewhere halfway through the night. Her questions change, and she makes the rounds again. If nothing else, as the Warrior of Light, she had shown proficiency in getting to the bottom of things.</p><p>              “Do you know where my escort might have run off to?”</p><p>              “Hm… actually, yes. The Leveilleur family has no estate in Ishgard, so if he is still in the Holy See at all, I’d assume he’s gone to get a room over at Cloud Nine. The inn in the Forgotten Knight, you know.”</p><p>              “Thank you, thank you,” she says with a bow before all but rushing off to see if his directions are accurate.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>              “You know this is an <em>exceedingly</em> poor way of dealing with negativity, don’t you?” A middle-aged Elezen woman sits across from Alphinaud at the table he had chosen to sulk at in the Forgotten Knight, her arms crossed on the table and her head rested upon them. Alphinaud is doing the same, if only because he has had one too many ales now.</p><p>              “Surely you understand I would rather be drunk than seething.”</p><p>              “You will make it <em>worse.</em> What if she sees you like this? What will you tell her, that her company ranked lower than several mugs of swill on your priority list? You <em>know</em> you’re above this. I know you know.” This woman in particular had seen enough that she is utterly unafraid of how those around her will respond to her scathing admonishments, Alphinaud least of all. Like the Warrior of Light, she had known him since he was sixteen, and being the motherly sort, unofficially adopted him and his sister.</p><p>              Looking away, he grumbles, “Someone else’s company ranked higher than mine on her priorities, so why then should I have stayed? To writhe in pathetic jealousy and make every man and woman at the gala wonder why I’ve got a stick up my arse?” Closing his eyes, he sighs, “She won’t be seeking me out. I’d bet half the gil I own she went home with him. She’s in good hands. I don’t have to worry about anyone other than myself now.”</p><p>              “Then you are plainly terrible at worrying.” She flicks him on the forehead, not wanting to watch the poor man pass out drunk at his table. “If you were truly so concerned for yourself, you would not be here. You would have, at the very least, gotten yourself a room and <em>slept</em> off the pain rather than making an earnest attempt at <em>drowning</em> it.”</p><p>              Alphinaud attempts to wave her hand away, but she is quick enough that she isn’t there for him to swat at by the time he tries. “Don’t patronize me.”</p><p>              “What happened to your wits, boy? Is this any way for a gentleman and a scholar to behave? Is this how you’re willing to let the world see you? You are a diplomat that has helped arrange the liberation of several nations, and you have deescalated countless other disasters besides. You’ve been setting a <em>shining</em> example up until now.”</p><p>              He doesn’t respond, as he greatly dislikes the point she is making and just how close to home it hits. He’s ashamed and embarrassed with himself, positively shocked at his own behavior and his poor control of it.</p><p>              The rush of cold air stings his face as the doors of the Forgotten Knight slam open. With the excessive flair the world had come to expect of her by now, rather than descending the stairs, the Warrior of Light slides down the banister to reach the lower level. It takes her all of a few seconds to spot Alphinaud.</p><p>              “Wha—Hey! You went out drinking without me?” Her indignation lasts only until she sees he is miserable. “Wait a sec. Are you alright?”</p><p>              “Nope,” he openly confesses. “Truth be told, I didn’t think you’d find me here.”</p><p>              “What made you think that?” Taking a seat beside him at the table, she lays a hand on his back. “Did I not tell you that I care? Did you <em>forget?</em> I have no dearer friend than you.”</p><p>              “What about Aymeric?” He only realizes his mistake after he makes it. He had no intention of letting her know about his envy, but things like this tend to get out on their own.</p><p>              “Let me repeat myself. <em>I have no dearer friend than you.</em> Alphinaud, I haven’t seen that man in ages. We were just catching up.” She is not a woman known for being oblivious, but somehow, some way, she has yet to perceive his hundred kindnesses—and his present envy—as romantic feelings.</p><p>“So how many have you had?”</p><p>              “Three… and a half. Really, you’re all exaggerating…”</p><p>              “No we’re not, you’re just a lightweight. And that’s fine,” the Au Ra hums, swiping the unfinished mug of ale that Alphinaud had left unattended. “I’ll just finish this for you. I still think you ought have invited me along in the first place, but I won’t take this personally.” She takes a sip of the ale, noting that it’s weak enough that he might just be <em>dramatic,</em> not drunk. “Shoulda got something stronger.”</p><p>              “Oh, be nice to the poor boy,” the Elezen across from her chides. “Plainly he values you as highly as you value him. Besides, if he has his story straight, you two planned that party’s downfall a week in advance. I’d be wrecked too if my <em>closest friend</em> threw a week of plans out the window and abandoned me for the night.”</p><p>              The Warrior of Light looks down into the mug of ale she had swiped from Alphinaud. “I had not considered that… though I now see that I should have. I’m sorry, Alphi…”</p><p>              “No, I don’t blame you. I was acting childish… and I still am.” Relieved that his world-wisened friend had just made him an excellent cover story and relieved that the Au Ra is not cross with him in the slightest, he sits back up, crossing his arms. “Now give my ale back.”</p><p>              “Nuh-uh. When this one’s empty, I’ll need three more. Once I catch up, we’re switching to whiskey.” There it is again, that mischievous grin, the playfulness in her tone an ever-present reminder of why it ate him up inside to see her flirting with someone else.</p><p>              Though, the idea of more hard liquor sends a shiver down Alphinaud’s spine. “Mm, no. Not tonight, at any rate.”</p><p>              “Smart choice,” the other Elezen chimes in. “But I think I’ll be having a few ales with you, too… I’ve got to go visit my mother tomorrow, and this cold weather tends to make her cranky. And believe me you, she can be a proper <em>beast</em> when she’s cranky…”</p><p>              “Then stick around. The sun has risen, a new day is here, and I am going to bully Alphinaud for a while for storming off when he could have just talked to me.” The warrior punches his arm playfully. No rancor lasts long between friends as close as they two.</p>
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